


Cotton, coins, and couch cushions

by the_wildcard



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Established relationship?, Fluff, High School, M/M, This is about happy boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 22:05:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10291169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wildcard/pseuds/the_wildcard
Summary: Mac and Charlie, hanging out, kissing like a couple of bros. Charlie's admits his anxiety and Mac comforts him. (IOW every other charliemac fic, right?)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charlieboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlieboy/gifts).



> Again, uploading because of the disheartening amount of charliemac on this website.

He reeks. Mouth dry like cotton, tastes like coins that have been stuck between the couch cushions.

And somehow, in the middle of all that, theres comfort. Something about just his presence is safe. 

Mac doesn't really know how he and Charlie ended up here, and he doesn't want to question it at the moment. Not while things are going so well, because he knows asking questions will ruin it. 

Charlie's moist hand raises to cup Mac's jaw. At some point, Charlie must've crawled into Mac's lap, not that Mac is complaining. The amount of beers he's had tonight is keeping him from resisting how he feels. 

The air is biting and cold. It's probably going to snow soon, Mac notes with Charlie's tongue in his mouth. It probably doesn't help that they're sitting on a jungle gym, in one of the tunnels. Its large enough for them to be sitting up, but confined enough for Mac to feel like they're the only two people in the world. 

"Dude." Charlie's laughing a little, breath warm on Mac's lips. "What?" 

Charlie laughs again before saying, "you're thinking too hard, it's throwing me off my game." 

Instead of just shaking off the comment and resuming their kissing, Mac decides that he wants to hear this. "Your game," he asks incredulously. Charlie has no game. That's just a fact. 

"Yeah. My game. My seduction." He emphasizes on the word 'seduction.' Even in the dark half light, Mac can see his cold breath in the air. 

"You think you're seducing me." He says it more as a statement than a question. Charlie nods, grinning. He tilts his head and leans into Mac, an attempt to continue their kissing. Mac leans away, as best he can with the kid strapped onto him like a monkey. 

"You're not seducing me, Charlie. I was seducing you." There's a beat of silence, and then Charlie laughing again. Why is he laughing so god damn much?

"Well, either way, it's working for both of us." Before Mac can say something stupid again, the boys connect lips again. 

Mac knows that it's late. When they left his house earlier that night to pay a homeless lady into buying them alcohol it was only around 6 pm. But that was hours ago, and their 12 pack is long gone. 

They were going to try and go get more, but then they stumbled across the playground. And then one thing led to another. 

Charlie's trembling. Mac has his hands on the smaller boys upper arms, the only thing separating their bare skin is Charlie's Members Only jacket. 

"You're shaking, Charlie." At the loss of contact with Mac's lips, Charlie begins kissing Mac's neck. "It's fine," he murmurs. 

As much as he loves the praise, Mac has to wonder why Charlie is so eager. It's not like they've never done this before, they're hardly new at it. 

"What's this about Charlie?" He pulls his lips away from Mac's skin, sighing. He's still trembling, and subconsciously tugs his hat lower on his head. Mac watches him cautiously. 

"I'm scared."

Mac is caught off guard. He was expecting something completely different. He's not sure what, but it wasn't this. 

"Of what?" His voice is dangerously low. His bangs are dangerously long. He's afraid of seeming like he doesn't care. And key ways to show you're listening is by controlling your voice, making eye contact, and nodding, but Mac isn't good at any of that. 

"We're about to graduate-" 

"Ideally," Mac interjects.

"Sure, yeah. But, we're seniors, man. What if-" he clears his throat, and Mac feels Charlie's forehead rest on his clavicle. "What if we just never talk again?" 

Although it's a serious moment, Mac feels the urge to laugh. It's such an absurd idea, one of Charlie's most wild thoughts. And he's had some pretty wild ones. 

"Dude, we've talked since we were like eight." 

"I think it was seven."

"Yeah, see." Mac's voice gets soft. "Look, if it makes you feel better, we can make a plan, okay?"

Charlie nods as best he can with his head resting on Mac. He feels like his skull is getting heavier with all the shitty thoughts it bears. 

"Obviously, neither of us are going to college."

"Obviously."

It's expensive. College was never an option for either of them. And while both of them attended a private Catholic school when they were young (it's where they met), neither of their families couldn't keep it up for long. 

By some miracle, they both began to attend the same public school, the same year. Since then, they've learned it's better if they stuck together. 

"We could start a dojo!" It's the first thing that pops into Mac's head, but he's already beginning to plan it. 

"For, like, karate?" Mac grins when Charlie looks up at him. "I thought you had to be Chinese to start a dojo?"

Mac shakes his head. "You're thinking Japanese. And no, you don't have to be." Charlie smiles. "And you've researched all of this, did you?" 

Mac rolls his eyes, and lifts his palms to rest on Charlie's knees, poking his fingers through the holes in his jeans. "Fine," he says, eyes cast down, "what do you want to do?" 

Charlie shrugs, noncommittal. "Suicide pact." He says it as if it was supposed to be obvious. A given. "What?" 

Charlie explains it to Mac as if he's teaching him how to do a math problem (not that Charlie could do that). He says that if such a pressing matter arises for either of them to die, then both of them must die. Absolutely no exceptions. 

"I thought we were already kinda under that agreement, anyway," Mac responds dumbly. Charlie cocks his head, the pom-pom on the top of his knit hat bobbing along with him. "Oh," he lets out another airy laugh. "Well I guess that's that, then." 

Charlie unconsciously picks at Mac's denim jacket with his fingernail. "You wanna go get more beer?" Charlie brightens up at Mac's suggestion and kisses his lips once before nodding.

**Author's Note:**

> Charlie doesn't know what ideally means. Also i was going to add this onto my other highschool charlimac but decided to make this its own fic. Anyway i may need to come back and edit this because i just finished it and now I'm impulsively uploading it at 1 am.


End file.
